


Playlist

by TheBadIdeaBears



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Armin dancing suggestively with a mop, Blow Jobs, Cell Phones, Dirty Talk, Filthy, Fluff and Smut, House Cleaning, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Music, Sharing Clothes, Shorts (Clothing), Teasing, Valentine's Day, rapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 14:13:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10788354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBadIdeaBears/pseuds/TheBadIdeaBears
Summary: Armin is spending Valentine's Day alone, so he decides to do some cleaning. But is he as alone as he thought? [Domestic AU]





	Playlist

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Valentine's Day 2017 for Holly from Pandora.

Armin wakes slowly, rolling onto his side and scrunching his nose up at the bright sunlight pushing through the white curtains. He stretches comfortably and reaches to the side, feeling the bed's empty space disappearing away from him. Opening his eyes, he gazes lazily around the room, confirming that he's alone.

_Jean must have gone to work already_ , he thinks. He suppresses a feeling of disappointment: he knows that Jean's work is pretty busy, and the chance of him getting Valentine's Day off was always going to be slim, so he shouldn't be surprised. There are some times when a part time job sucks, but at least Armin has the day off today – and he knows exactly how he wants to spend it. He rolls out of bed, disentangling himself from the covers, and pads on bare feet to the bathroom to toss his pyjamas into the laundry hamper. He brushes his teeth and runs his fingers through his blonde hair. He wants to wash it now, but knows there's no point in doing so before he cleans the house.

As he goes back into the bedroom to dress, Armin starts mentally mapping out the cleaning he wants to do. He likes cleaning – the slow, methodical nature of it – as long as he can do it alone. The few times Jean tried to help, Armin spent the whole time following him around, either re-cleaning whatever Jean did or pointedly clearing his throat. Eventually, Jean learned Armin's patterns and now cleans only his office himself, as it's the only room in the house he's at all particular about.

Armin pulls on some old clothes to clean in: an oversized grey t-shirt with a crossed-wings design (he thinks maybe it's Jean's) and a pair of faded red shorts he used to wear for the gym until they shrank in the wash beyond all decency. He slips his MP3 player into his pocket and sticks the earbuds in his ears so he can listen to his “solo cleaning” playlist, before stripping the bedclothes from the bed to take them downstairs with him to put them in the washing machine. He notes that Jean's office door is closed and feels a distant sense of dejection – normally when Jean works from home he leaves the door slightly ajar, so he must definitely have gone out. Even though Armin knows that this was probably going to be the case, he has to stop himself feeling down about it. He can clean faster without Jean around anyway (especially in these shorts).

He sets the bedding on a wash and wolfs some toast down for breakfast before going to look for the broom.

 

***

 

Jean hangs up the phone and sighs, gazing across his office to the closed door. When he heard Armin come down earlier, he wanted to go and say hi, especially after the long telephone meeting he'd had, but then his phone started ringing again and now, nearly two hours later, he's feeling distinctly more bored than he usually does when he works from home on one of Armin's days off.

He stands and stretches, putting his phone in his pocket and opening his office door to go look for Armin. As he steps out into the hallway, he hears a muffled voice from the kitchen and wanders through. He stops dead in the doorway, however, a greeting caught somewhere behind his teeth, when he sees Armin.

Armin is on all fours, his backside towards Jean and much of his torso inside the awkwardly-large corner cupboard beside the washing machine. The usual contents of the cupboard – saucepans, the cheese grater, chopping boards and more – are lined up neatly on the counter above and the faint scent of bleach in the air tells Jean that Armin is doing a deep clean. All this, Jean expected. What he's not expecting is Armin's voice, echoing out of the cupboard along to the music he is presumably listening to from the MP3 player in his back pocket: “... make it rain I'm making it snow, work the pole I got the bank roll, I'ma say that I prefer them no clothes, I'm into that I love women exposed...”

Jean is used to Armin absent-mindedly humming or singing along to things when he's cleaning or cooking, but this song is not the usual fare for his sweet-natured, reserved boyfriend. Armin can barely tell Jean what he likes in bed without blushing furiously, but what he's spouting now (word-perfect no less) is pure _filth_. As Armin continues rapping along to the song, he arches his back _just right_ to show off that beautiful ass in those tiny shorts, and Jean feels like this Armin is an entirely new creature – one Jean is curious to know.

“Them baggy sweatpants and the Reeboks with the straps, she turned around and gave that big booty a smack...”

He's about to do as Armin's rapping suggests and lay a smack on that perfect butt when he feels a buzzing in his pocket. Cursing silently, he leaves the kitchen, waiting until he's safely back in his office with the door closed before he takes the call. He'll have to question Armin on his musical taste later.

 

***

 

Armin dumps his sponge into the sink and admires the cleanliness of the kitchen. Not bad for a couple of hours work, he figures, with the living room and bathroom also mostly done, as well as the laundry. All that's left is the mopping in the bathroom and kitchen, and then he'll go upstairs and tidy the bedroom and make the bed. He sticks on the kettle for hot water and thinks of Jean. He hasn't heard from him at all today – normally by now he'd have a message from Jean to say how bored he is or how long and pointless his last meeting was. Armin pulls out his phone and sends a quick message to Jean: 'Hey, hope you're having a good Valentine's Day! :) Can't wait to see you later. xxx'

As Ginuwine comes on his MP3 player and Armin absent-mindedly sings along, he gets a reply: 'Same, been stuck in telephone conferences all day. xxx'

Armin sends a reply: 'That sounds so dull! Anything I can do to help? xxx'

He's expecting the usual “nah it's okay” so when he gets the next message his blue eyes grow wide: 'Well a picture of you in those little red shorts would be most appreciated. ;) xxx'

After the surprise has worn off a little, he frowns. 'How did you know I'm wearing the red shorts? xxx'

'Partly a lucky guess but I know you're probably cleaning and you do wear them when you clean on your own. ;) xxx'

'Hmm I guess that is true. xxx'

Armin fills the mop bucket with detergent and boiling water before taking it and the mop up into the bathroom.

'So, that picture? ;) xxx'

Armin smiles and opens up his camera app. He turns around (he maintains that a picture can't be sexy with a toilet in the background) and searches for the right angle. Based on previous times he's sent pictures to Jean, he knows what to aim for: he makes sure his pale legs and slightly-blushing face both feature in the photo, and parts his lips a little as well as a bonus, one hand on the mop. He sends the picture and gets to work on the floor, bouncing and singing along to his playlist music from his earbuds. Soon a new message appears:

'Very nice, what I'd do to be there to help you take those clothes off... ;P xxx'

Armin blushes furiously, but before he can send a response, he gets another message, reading, 'What are you listening to btw? xxx'

He pauses before sending back, 'Not much, just some sappy love songs because it's Valentine's Day. xxx' As he sends the message, DMX starts rapping about pussy.

Another message comes back soon after: 'Fair enough, just trying to build myself a mental picture I can think of in my next meeting. ;) xxx'

Armin feels a little pang and a sense of guilt. He doesn't like lying to Jean, even about trivial things like the music he's listening to, but something stops him telling the truth. He gets back to the mopping, finishing up in the bathroom quickly and then heading downstairs to mop the kitchen. As he mops, the Divinyls start playing in his ears and he sings along: “I love myself, I want you to love me, when I feel down, I want you above me...”

He dances around the kitchen, the mop following his movements across the floor. As Armin gets more into the music, the mopping is almost forgotten and he rolls his shoulders and hips, strutting around the kitchen and almost straddling the mop. As he sings “I'd get down on my knees” he falls to his knees, the mop between them, and then slowly stands back up, using it for balance while pushing his backside out provocatively. As he straightens up, he suddenly feels an arm around his waist and he is pulled against someone. He cries out in surprise and nearly drops the mop, and one earbud is pulled from his ear.

“Now that's a sight I like to see,” purrs Jean against Armin's neck.

“ _Jean_?!” Armin almost chokes on his surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I've been home all day,” says Jean. “I was on the phone a lot, so I had the door shut, but I came out here earlier and thought you seemed so...” He pauses, his nose gently nuzzling at the outer shell of Armin's ear while he tugs out Armin's other earbud and puts his MP3 player down on the counter. “... happy that I wanted to let you carry on.”

Armin can feel his face burning at the discovery and the heat of Jean's body against his own. “I... I'm sorry!”

“What for?” asks Jean, and Armin thinks he might be smiling.

“I lied to you!” says Armin in a rush. “I didn't tell you about the music I was listening to!”

Jean chuckles, the sound low in his throat. “You think I mind?” He squeezes Armin around the ribcage, making him squirm. “I've never heard you say anything like this before...”

Armin trembles a little, unsure of what's to come. “I... can't normally... say it,” he stammers. “It's not...” He gulps as Jean's fingers draw circles on his tummy over the t-shirt. “It's not something I do...”

“Unless I'm not around to hear it?” asks Jean, and Armin can hear a definite smile in his voice now.

Armin blushes. “Can I finish mopping please?” he asks, but when Jean laughs he knows the answer.

“Only if I get to watch,” murmurs Jean, lips brushing Armin's ear. “I'll even give you back your music.”

Jean brings his hands to Armin's hips and pulls him against himself, and Armin gasps when he feels Jean half-hard and pressing against him, heat immediately pooling inside him. He looks wide-eyed over his shoulder at Jean, their faces inches apart, and is rewarded with a wide smile. The next moment, their lips meet and the mop clatters to the floor. Armin throws his arms around Jean's neck and Jean grasps him around his waist, their kiss quickly growing heated, insistent and desperate. Armin's mouth opens and Jean lays claim to it, his tongue teasing Armin's as his hands roam back to his hips.

Before Armin has time to realise what's happened, Jean lifts him and pins him against the wall, the sudden impact making Armin gasp into Jean's mouth. Armin holds Jean's face in his hands while Jean grasps at his thighs, propping him against the wall with his hips.

“I've been... thinking about... these shorts... all day,” murmurs Jean between kisses, his fingers running over Armin's butt and up under his t-shirt. Armin lets out a hiss as Jean circles his nipples. “You have... no idea... how much I want you.”

Armin's bites his lip at the words, a tingling on his skin. He goes in for another kiss but Jean pulls back. Armin's eyes grow round in confusion as Jean stills his movements and looks up into Armin's face with a small smile.

“Jean?”

“Yes?”

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing at all.” Jean cocks an eyebrow. “I just wanted to hear more of what you had to say.”

Armin frowns. “What?”

“Well you were saying a lot of things earlier,” says Jean. “I want you to tell me what you want.”

A blush breaks out across Armin's face, staining his cheeks a warm pink. “What I want?”

“Yeah,” Jean smiles.

“But you know what I want,” says Armin, trying a smile to cover the nerves that are bubbling up inside him. “I never have to tell you...”

“No, I like to think I understand you fairly well by now,” says Jean, sweeping Armin's fringe to one side with his fingers. “But I want to hear _you_ say it, out loud.”

Armin shivers, still held up against the wall by Jean's arms and hips, and tries to catch his breath. He never talks during sex. He's used to Jean spouting some sheer filth from time to time, and he won't say that's not a turn-on, but Armin's vocalisations during sex are usually limited to moans, gasps and cries of 'oh god' or 'more'. The prospect of anything more makes him nervous – what if he's bad at it? What if Jean laughs at him? Or worse, what if he turns Jean off? He looks into Jean's light brown eyes and gets a small, encouraging smile in response. He swallows, deciding to start easy.

“K-kiss me?” he mumbles, unable to take the uncertainty out of his voice. Jean grins and complies, his kiss slow and deliberate, sending a tingle down Armin's spine all the way to his toes. Armin clings to Jean, wrapping his legs tight around his waist and his arms around Jean's neck. He tries to grind into Jean's crotch, wanting to get a reaction out of him that might force him to take back control, but Jean just pulls out of the kiss again.

“Are you okay?” he asks, an infuriating smile playing about his lips. He's not going to let Armin get away with that.

Armin nods, knowing any further protests would be entirely pointless and that he needs to be touched, and just about holds in a frustrated groan that Jean laughs at.

“You sound like you're holding back,” says Jean, cocking an eyebrow.

Armin hesitates but then nods. Before he can elaborate, one of Jean's hands starts running up and down his thigh, fingers drawing on his skin, and he groans.

“Is there really nothing you want?” asks Jean evenly.

“Stop teasing me!” cries Armin in frustration, and Jean smiles.

“Well now we're getting somewhere,” he says, but then his face softens again. “Come on, I want to hear everything you're thinking: every thought in your beautiful head.” He kisses Armin on the forehead and whispers against it, “Please?”

Armin pauses at the tender gesture and feels himself relenting. “Okay,” he says.

“What do you want me to do?” Jean asks.

Armin fidgets against Jean again and says, “I... please... can you take my clothes off?”

Jean laughs. “Don't ask me, tell me.”

“Okay...”

“Go on then.”

Armin bites his lip but then says, “Take... take off my t-shirt.”

Jean grins. “As you wish.”

Armin pulls him into another kiss, sure at least that he can manage that, and Jean's hands slip under his butt so he can be carried to the newly-cleaned kitchen counter. Jean puts him down, still kissing him deeply, and his feet dangle off the edge of the counter, heels catching the drawer handles. Jean's fingers walk down Armin's sides and slip under the hem of his t-shirt and his lips travel along Armin's jaw.

“I love seeing you in my clothes,” he whispers into Armin's ear. “I think I prefer seeing you out of them though.”

Armin bites his lip and makes a whining noise in the back of his throat. “Hurry up...”

Jean grins. “Now you're getting the idea.”

His hands sweep up Armin's chest, the t-shirt bunching over his wrists. He pulls away from nibbling on Armin's ear and tugs it off, tossing it over his shoulder, before diving back in to suck and lick at Armin's neck. Armin whimpers at the sensation and feels Jean's hands sliding down his body again to tease at the waistband of his shorts. Armin arches into his touch, desperately wanting more but still biting back his demands with a moan. As if reading his mind, Jean's hands begin to retreat, but sheer need makes Armin finally let go.

“My shorts,” he breathes desperately, grabbing Jean's wrists to keep them from wandering too far. “Take them off.”

Jean's hands immediately return to Armin's thighs, running upwards to tug at the seams of the shorts. Armin struggles to get up, his feet with no purchase, and Jean wraps one strong arm around his chest, lifting him a little so he can slip the shorts off and drop them on the floor. All of a sudden, Jean freezes.

“No underwear?” Jean's voice almost cracks – into a laugh or a groan, Armin isn't quite sure – and Armin flushes.

“I didn't see the point,” says Armin, eyes on Jean's chest and his backside slowly chilling on the smooth countertop. “I was going to shower after I finished cleaning.”

Jean gazes into Armin's eyes, looking every bit like a cat that got the cream. He leans in for another kiss and Armin's hands go to Jean's shoulders, slipping under his the sleeves of his polo shirt, squeezing and leaving tiny crescents in Jean's flesh with his nails. Jean hums appreciatively into Armin's lips, a his mouth turning up in a smile. His hands stroke up and down Armin's back, fingers tracing up under his shoulder blades, down the sides of his ribs, grazing over the top of his buttocks before travelling upwards again. Armin pulls Jean's shirt up and off, his hands running over Jean's abs and pecs, occasionally leaving little scratches on Jean's skin. Jean hisses, grabbing Armin's knees and pulling him to the edge of the counter to kiss him again.

“I thought I was supposed to be telling you what to do?” asks Armin breathlessly when Jean eventually pulls away.

Jean chuckles. “Something you had in mind?”

His eyes lock with Armin's and the look in them ignites something in Armin. He reaches forward and grabs the front of Jean's waistband, his hand surprisingly steady as he pops the button. He lowers the fly, getting a quiet groan from Jean as it rubs over his cock, and says, “Clothes off.”

Jean pulls off his jeans and boxers before straightening up and cocking an eyebrow. “And now?”

Armin surveys Jean, eyes going up and down his body to drink him in, and bites his lip on a low moan. “I want...” His heart is thumping loud in his ears. “I want your mouth...”

Jean smiles a slow smile and steals another kiss before beginning to kiss and nibble his way down Armin's body. When he stops at one of Armin's nipples, licking and gently biting, Armin gives him a minute, but then tugs impatiently on Jean's hair.

“Oh _god_ , get on with it,” he groans. Jean licks his nipple again, teasing, and Armin tugs more insistently. “I _said_ get on with it.”

He thinks he feels a smile as Jean acquiesces, running his tongue further down Armin's chest and tummy. Armin slowly leans back, the edge of the toaster making him tense a little from the cold metal against his skin. His spine loses all tension, however, when Jean licks delicately at the tip of his erection, his breath dancing on his skin. Armin's fingers tangle tighter into Jean's hair (and he knows Jean loves it) as Jean continues licking up and down his cock, eventually closing his lips around the head and gazing up at Armin with lust-darkened eyes. The sight makes Armin gasp involuntarily and bite his lip on a whimper as Jean takes his cock further into his mouth, tongue working along the underside in the way he knows makes Armin turn to mush. Armin starts to pant softly, eyes following the steady bobbing of Jean's head up and down, his cock disappearing into and re-emerging from Jean's lips and _god_ he has to try hard not to come right there and then because the sight is stunning. He has to try even harder when Jean sucks him all the way in and swallows around him. He runs his fingers over the shaved hair at the nape of Jean's neck, enjoying the feel of it almost as much as he knows Jean is appreciating the sensation as he continues sucking and licking Armin's cock.

With great difficulty, Armin eventually stammers out for Jean to stop and has to keep himself from protesting as Jean pulls away, lips wet with spit and hands grasping at Armin's thighs as he waits for further instruction. Armin gathers his wits and cups Jean's face with his fingers.

“Help me down,” he says, and Jean straightens up instantly, grabbing Armin round the waist and kissing him once again. He lowers Armin onto the floor in front of him and for a moment Armin lets himself forget about orders or demands and just kisses Jean hungrily, pressing his body against Jean's, standing up on his tip-toes as Jean bends to kiss him back, arms around his waist. When they break for air, Armin fights to catch his breath and Jean nuzzles his nose in Armin's ear.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks, his voice making the hair on the back of Armin's neck stand up.

“Fuck me,” says Armin weakly, breath still shallow. “Hard as you can.”

Jean grins against his ear. “Turn around, hands on the counter.”

Armin does so, gripping the edge of the counter with his hands and moving his feet apart to spread his legs as much as possible. Jean's hands run down his back, over his buttocks, squeezing hard before moving on. Armin hears a sachet open and realises Jean must have had it in his pocket the moment before a slick finger pushes inside him. He gasps and sighs, welcoming the feeling of Jean working first one finger and then a second in and out of him, each time pushing a little deeper. Moans and whimpers start to spill from Armin's lips, getting louder when Jean seeks out his prostate and prods it.

“Ah, don't stop!” whines Armin, knuckles turning white on the edge of the counter.

Jean moves his fingers a little faster and more insistently, adding a third once the resistance is low enough for him to do so. Armin relishes the slight burn, anticipation making him groan and bite his lip hard. Eventually, Jean's fingers leave him and Armin listens to him smoothing lube onto his cock before he starts to press the tip into Armin. Armin thinks distantly that he's glad Jean is holding his hips up because otherwise the feeling of being slowly opened and filled like this makes his knees turn to jelly. Jean pushes forward slowly, still careful even now, and Armin holds onto the counter for dear life. When Jean is buried to the hilt he pauses there, letting Armin grow accustomed to the feeling as always, until Armin nods and Jean begins to move. He goes slow at first, but with encouragement from Armin's groans and hisses he starts slowly speeding up. Armin's moans turn breathy and he clenches his fist.

“Oh god Jean,” he mewls. “I... Jean... _Fuck_...”

Jean lets out a quiet chuckle. “I agree.”

Armin moans again. “Fuck me... _harder_... Please...”

Jean's hands grip his hips a little tighter and he starts driving into Armin insistently. The kitchen fills with the sound of soft pants and louder moans, along with the sound of slapping skin. Armin's fingers suddenly slip a little on the edge of the counter and he slides forward, crying out in surprise. Jean pauses.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Armin throws a glance over his shoulder. “Did I say stop?”

Jean shakes his head with a grin. “No sir!”

He returns to his previous pace, nails digging into Armin's hips as he tries to get himself leverage. He aims for Armin's prostate, getting a stream of profanities in response.

“Where did my sweet little Armin go?” asks Jean, snapping his hips forward to hit Armin's prostate again. Armin yelps, seeing his eyes grow wide in his reflection in the toaster.

“You made him talk his way through getting fucked in the kitchen,” he growls back.

Jean laughs again, thrusting his hips. Any further words Armin had dissolve in his mouth and turn into whimpers as Jean ploughs into him. A coil tightens within him, desperate to spring free or break or... something. He can feel sweat beading all over him and he needs to be touched.

“Touch me,” he moans, and Jean's hand creeps round from his hip to wrap around his cock. Armin makes a high keening noise, tears of pleasure starting to form in the corners of his eyes. The feeling of Jean's hand stroking up and down his cock is amazing, and he almost sobs.

“ _Armin_...” Jean's voice sounds unsteady and the wobble in it reaches inside Armin. “God... I love you so much.”

“I... I love you too,” gasps Armin. “Don't stop... Please!”

Jean pumps his cock a couple more times and Armin comes with a cry of his name, his muscles clenching uncontrollably around Jean's cock as he comes too. Their movements slow and Armin collapses, boneless, in Jean's arms as Jean pulls out and turns Armin to leave a kiss on his forehead. Armin breathes heavily and looks up at Jean.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” he sighs, a grin on his face.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” grins Jean. “You're beautiful.”

Armin flushes. “So are you...”

He hugs Jean's waist and glances down, feeling a sudden drop in his stomach. Jean looks down at him.

“What's wrong?” he asks. “You suddenly went all stiff...?”

Armin, a furious blush high on his cheeks, bites his lip, somewhere between amusement and despair.

“I er... I'm going to have to clean the front of that counter again...”

 


End file.
